


The Woods Are Dark and Deep

by CaryceJade



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Disturbing Themes, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infected Characters, M/M, Maybe overtagging IDK, Night Terrors, Vomiting, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaryceJade/pseuds/CaryceJade
Summary: After an encounter with dust on an abandoned ship, Rimmer and Lister (and The Cat to an extent) experience various jarring phenomena. It is up to them, along with Kryten, to figure out why and what to do about it.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	The Woods Are Dark and Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr post that I did that I decided to build a fic around.

It had been a long and tiring day, Lister mused to himself as he slipped towards sleep, an arm around his partner. Early that morning, they had discovered an abandoned ship floating in space. Upon seeing that there were no life-signs on board, they boarded the ship, intent on getting what supplies they could, then continuing on.

The ship had been quiet. Too quiet, even for an abandoned ship, floating in space for untold millennia. There was nothing except the quiet hum of the air circulation units. Rimmer and Lister had met each other's eyes as Cat had commented that the place smelled wrong, certainly not disagreeing with his instincts. The place did not feel exactly "right" to them either. Upon further exploration, they found the skeletons of the captain and crew scattered throughout the dusty ship, long since dead from an unknown cause. 

Every other aspect of their supply-gathering had gone without incident, until they were going through the medi-bay. Kryten had bumped into a container, and an especially large cloud of dust was jarred loose, covering all of them in a sneeze-inducing cloud.

Over the course of the next several hours, they had taken their booty back to their own ship, counting themselves lucky that no GELFs or simulants had bothered them. 

They had no way of knowing, Lister and Rimmer especially, of what was to come, or that the dust was not ordinary dust. 

* * *

It was dark and cold, packed dirt under his back. At least the cold of the basement floor distracted him from the pain and hunger. The pain made him feel dazed and queasy, and the hunger didn't help. Had he hit his head when his father threw him down the stairs? He didn't know.

Bruises littered his body from the latest beating. There were cuts on his back from his father's belt buckle. Would his father let them heal before he added more? Somehow, he doubted it.

They would forget him down here. They often did, wanting to pretend that they were the perfect family; a father, a mother, three perfect sons all destined for glorious careers in the Space Corps. Especially now that school was out, and nobody would inquire as to where the fourth son was. They could forget him, pretend that he didn't exist, the tiny sink and ancient Pittsburgh toilet that backed up on rainy days if you so much as looked at it the wrong way his only comforts. Occasionally, they threw overripe fruits or vegetables, meat that was going bad, or moldy bread down, knowing that it was too dark down here for him to really gauge how safe it was to eat, and laughing and mocking him if it made him ill. He had nearly died of food poisoning last summer, had he not rallied and fought on. 

Images were starting to run together. Was his father beating him again? His mother wouldn't dare get her hands dirty. She would put his brothers up to whatever she wanted done, laughing it off as sibling rivalry, and "boys will be boys".

It was becoming a blur. He screamed, tried to curl away, to minimize the blows, shut out the words.

"Ungrateful bastard."

"Too stupid."

"Disgrace."

On and on it went. Twisting, writhing, screaming for them to stop. The words, the blows, on and on.

A different voice broke through, making the other voices fall silent, and the blows fade away.

"Arnold. Wake up. You're scaring me, man."

* * *

Lister was terrified. Rimmer was having a horrible nightmare, and he couldn't seem to completely wake him up. He had tried shaking his shoulder, quietly soothing him, and now he was at the end of his rope. The crying and screaming made him want to destroy whatever was torturing his lover in his dreams.

"Arnold. Wake up. You're scaring me, man."

Rimmer woke up with a cry, gasping for air. He shuddered, curling up and away into the corner of the bed. Between great, shuddering sobs, he gasped out, "I'm sorry.... I'll do better.... I'll get it right this time.... Don't put me back there…."

Lister's heart shattered and fell somewhere near his feet. He laid a hand on Rimmer's arm. "Arnold. It's me, Dave. Whatever it was can't hurt you here. It's okay. You're okay. It's just us. You're on Red Dwarf with me."

Rimmer nodded, looking up at Lister, then getting up and making a desperate sprint for the bathroom. Lister winced as he heard Rimmer fall to his knees and vomit splatter on the floor. He gave a mental shrug; the mess was the least of his worries. That was what that funky-smelling powder in the cleaning closet, along with a broom and dustpan, was for. Instead, he could focus on comforting his partner, who was continuing to empty his stomach onto the floor.

Appropriately spurred into action, he went over and laid a hand on Rimmer's shoulder. "It's okay. Just get it all out." He rubbed his partner's back, keeping up a litany of reassurances.

"S...s...sorry,"he stammered out once he managed to stop vomiting. 

"It's okay. Are you done?" At Rimmer's nod, Lister added, "I would hug you, but I think we probably ought to change your pajamas first."

Rimmer wrinkled his nose. "You may be right."

Lister gave a wry smile, trying to hide the worry he felt, and failing miserably. "Course I am." He went over and pulled another pair of pajamas out and guided Rimmer into the bathroom. "How about you get cleaned up and changed, and I'll get this out here."

"I can...you don't have to…," His face was growing redder by the second.

Lister, sensing his partner's embarrassment and discomfort, interrupted him. "It's okay. These things happen." He was mentally recalling a few times that he himself had redecorated the bunk room and/or bathroom in the time that they had been sharing a space. "Trolley boy, remember. We didn't just push trollies."

Rimmer finally gave in, sitting down on the toilet lid and lowering his face into his hands.

"I'll be right out here if you need anything," Lister said, squeezing his partner's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. As he left, he heard the shower turn on.

* * *

Lister got the canister of powder out of the closet. "Will clean any liquid mess, including protein spills!" the label crowed ironically. He also reached for the broom and a large dustpan. Under normal circumstances, he hated cleaning, and made a point of avoiding it, although he certainly knew how, but he was _not _going to disturb Kryten and open Rimmer up to more scrutiny.__

____

__

As he was pouring the powder over the mess, he wondered what Arnold had dreamt that had gotten him so torn up. He could hazard a few guesses, most likely something to do with his childhood, if you could call it that, but it was entirely possible for it to be some random smeg that his brain had cooked up. He didn't _feel_ feverish to Lister, but it was also entirely possible that he was coming down with something.

He made quick work of sweeping up the mess and disposing of it, then he went to check on Rimmer, who still had not come back out of the bathroom. At some point, the shower had been turned off, though, which was slightly reassuring.

He went over and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. "You okay, Arnold?" After waiting a second, and hearing no response, he walked in. 

Rimmer was seated in the same position as when he had left the room, though he had showered and changed. "Listy?" he inquired, voice tired and slightly hoarse.

"Yeah, love?" Lister laid a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"I...I... don't...feel right."

Well that certainly made Lister's heart clench. Though, to be honest, he didn't feel exactly right either. For him, it was more of a niggling feeling between his shoulder blades that this was more than just a nightmare. 

"Not right _how _, exactly?" Lister inquired.__

____

____

"I don't know... just not right."

"That might be the nightmare talking," Lister soothed. "Do you want to try to go back to sleep, or sit up for a while?" 

"I don't want to go back to sleep," Rimmer whined. Lister did not fail to catch the undercurrent of fear in his partner's voice.

"Okay, we'll sit on the couch for a bit. Maybe find a nice movie or something."

"Okay." Rimmer took Lister's hand. 

* * *

Lister had found a fairly safe, tame old black-and-white movie while surfing the million-and-one channels of late-night television. He was hoping for something like this; something that would soothe Rimmer back to sleep. 

It took less than half an hour for it to start having the desired effect. Rimmer yawned, laying his head on Lister's shoulder. Lister gently guided him down until his head was in his lap. He unconsciously began stroking his partner's hair.

Looking down after he felt Rimmer's breathing change, he saw that he had fallen asleep. It didn't take long for him to follow, the movie playing softly in the background.

As he fell asleep, he hoped for his partner's sake that this was just a one-off.

**Author's Note:**

> ...we all know that won't be the end of it.


End file.
